


only human

by hexicity



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Protective Dad Magnus, human for a day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 10:05:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11484102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexicity/pseuds/hexicity
Summary: “The boathouse?” Magnus clarifies, cocking his head to the side. “What do you mean?”“Oh.” Simon suddenly becomes very interested in the loose thread on Magnus’ couch cushion. He picks at it with a shaky hand, which is alarmingly cold when Magnus lays his own hand over it as a signal for Simon to explain. “I guess you didn’t know. Yeah, uh, since I vamped out I figured I shouldn’t stay with my mom anymore, so I live in the boathouse by the Jade Wolf now. No big deal.”“What?”(or, when magnus finds out where simon's been living and does not react well)





	only human

“It’s just a tad bit ridiculous to me that, despite my countless warnings and lectures and explanations, you continue not to listen. This is the third time you’ve made a deal with one of the demons we’ve summoned and you’re unbelievably fortunate that it’s never been anything worse than this and--Simon why are you smiling?”

“I’m hot.” He says gleefully, looking up at Magnus, who’s in his arms-crossed, strict parent pose. Simon knows he deserves this lecture, just like he deserved it the first two times, but in this moment he can’t seem to care because it’s a little warm in Magnus’ apartment, too warm to be wearing a Captain America hoodie, and Simon can feel it. But it’s not the time to enjoy that, he realizes when Magnus’ glare continues to be unwavering. “Look, I’m sorry! I know I have to stop, but at least we got what we needed! He gave us the information, so now Alec has a lead on who’s been supplying that werewolf drug.”

“I could have gotten the same outcome with ten more minutes!” Magnus snaps, which makes Simon involuntarily flinch. Magnus softens within seconds, putting his hands up in front of him so that Simon can see. “I apologize. I need to calm down, I know. I just--if anything happened to you I would not forgive myself.”

That’s nice to hear, honestly. Simon’s habit of blurting out his willingness to volunteer for a demonic exchange merely stems from the logic that he can’t die. Or at least, he can’t die as easily as the Shadowhunters in the circle. So when he’s been cursed with an honesty spell, a small coma, and now an apparent reversion back to being human, it’s never bothered him much. 

Especially now. Somehow, though his heart remains still in his chest, his body feels entirely alive. He can feel temperature and the slight ache in his neck from looking up at Magnus from his seat. He can feel hunger, and not for blood which now seems nauseatingly far from his appetite. 

“I’m okay.” He promises Magnus, and then allows himself to smile when he feels that the somber mood has lifted. “I mean, I feel great. When will this wear off?”

“Twenty-four hours.” Magnus reminds him. “So be careful, because you can now experience pain, illness, bone breakage, anything that a living being would. Just go home and try to relax.”

“Can I stop to get a burger, first?” He asks, because he can’t experience a cheat day without getting real, actual food that won’t make him puke. Magnus must realize this because he quickly rolls his wrist and flicks his hand, making a Five Guys bag appear in Simon’s lap. “Yes! Thanks, Magnus, you’re the best!”

“Be safe!” Magnus calls as Simon hops over the back of the couch. He tries to run out the door, ready to get home and eat as quickly as possible, but the spell must have taken his vampiric powers as a part of the whole living thing. So Simon settles for a taxi. 

The first thing he notices when he enters his boathouse is that it’s fucking freezing. Which logically makes sense because it’s January and it’s New York City and the place doesn’t have a heater or adequate coverage from the elements. When Simon hears the winds pick up, he drags a tarp over the roof to avoid rain leaking in. Literally. 

But it’s only one day, Simon thinks optimistically as he crashes on his bed and reaches for the tiny portable DVD player from 2009. He’s halfway through his full scale rewatch of the Marvel Cinematic Universe and he’s currently hitting The First Avenger, which is easily in his top five.

He’s just freezing. He puts on his hoodie again, now appropriately matching the movie, and bundles himself in the blanket on his bed. It’s just the one, because he didn’t exactly need thick blankets on a daily basis. 

Simon spots a quilt hanging from the canoe a few feet away. He hurries over, grabbing the blanket and turning in one swift motion before he feels a sharp pain in his right arm. 

There’s a nail that protrudes from the canoe rack, now dripping blood on the floor. Simon inspects the gash with a wince, wondering why he ever wanted to be a stupid living thing in the first place. The nails and sharp edges of shoddily cut wood had never bothered him before, because his injuries always closed right up before he could even notice them.

Now he has to press at the cut with an old shirt as he sits in bed, still shivering. He’s focused more on how fucking cold it is than the movie, and he’s considering just pausing it when a drop of water appears on Steve Rogers’ face. 

Simon looks up. The hole in his ceiling, uncovered by the tarp because his lack of advanced hearing failed to warn him about approaching rain, is now letting in a downpour. It soaks him almost immediately, making the chill multiple. Simon slumps back against his pillow with a heavy sigh. 

Being alive, he thinks, is overrated. 

//

It’s been five hours. Literally, Simon left the loft at noon and it is now five o’clock. Dinner is just now being prepared by Alec, the sun is just now lowering, and Simon is somehow standing at his door looking like an absolute wreck. 

There’s blood on him, for one thing, which is normal for a vampire but not like this. There’s faint streaks of red on his arms, and he has visible cuts which Magnus assumes are the source. Aside from just injuries, Simon looks pale and exhausted. He’s shivering in his hoodie and he hastily swipes at his nose, which is a shade of pink. 

Instinct takes over. Magnus hurries Simon inside, away from the biting winds of New York. He wraps an arm around his shoulders and leads him to the couch, concern spiking when he feels how much Simon is trembling. 

“You look awful.” He murmurs without thinking, brushing back a wave of curls so he can see Simon’s face fully. 

“Thank you.” Simon says with a roll of his eyes, and his words sound rounded out and nearly hard to decipher. “I know you’re probably about to eat, I’ll go. I just need some--” 

Simon ducks his head to cover a sudden sneeze in the crook of his arm. Magnus flinches, startled. He takes in Simon’s appearance once again and things begin to make more sense.

“Simon, love, you’re sick.” Magnus clicks his tongue sympathetically. “Poor thing. How did this happen so fast?”

“Well the boathouse isn’t the best place to be if you’re, you know, alive.” Simon explains with a tired sniffle. “Plus the rain didn’t help anything.”

“The boathouse?” Magnus clarifies, cocking his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Oh.” Simon suddenly becomes very interested in the loose thread on Magnus’ couch cushion. He picks at it with a shaky hand, which is alarmingly cold when Magnus lays his own hand over it as a signal for Simon to explain. “I guess you didn’t know. Yeah, uh, since I vamped out I figured I shouldn’t stay with my mom anymore, so I live in the boathouse by the Jade Wolf now. No big deal.”

“What?” Magnus all but hisses. “You’ve--you’ve been living in a shed? With no heating or light or anything?”

“Well, yeah, but the lack of heat never bothered me until now.” Simon says this almost cheerfully, which admittedly breaks Magnus’ heart. The whole situation is heartbreak-worthy. He’d never put much thought into where Simon lived, but he’d always assumed that the Shadowhunters had found him an apartment or something. In exchange for killing him, anyways. 

But a boathouse? 

“Simon, that’s not the point.” Magnus shakes his head firmly. “The point is that your friends know that you’ve been living in a literal shed when they have the resources to find you a place. It doesn’t matter if you can’t feel the cold, you deserve an actual functioning home.”

Simon looks away again, seemingly ready for the conversation to end. His shoulders lift in a small shrug and he says, “What can you do, you know?” 

“Lots of things! If I had known I could’ve done--God. Okay, we’ll continue this conversation later. Come on, you need a bed.” Simon opens his mouth, presumably to protest, and Magnus cuts him off before he can get a word out. “Simon Lewis you are going to get in bed and stay there until your lips are no longer blue. Got it?”

“Got it.” Simon says meekly. He allows Magnus to lead him in the direction of the guest bedroom. Magnus summons a set of sweatpants and a plain cotton shirt for Simon and uses a drying spell on both Simon and his soaking clothes. 

Magnus doesn’t really consider himself a father. Sure, he considers his many Downworlder prodigies to be like children, but he’s never been one to tell dad jokes or, God forbid, to wear dad shirts. He’s not what many would categorize as a typical father figure, really, but he can’t deny the urge to protect Simon and his other kids. 

That’s why he pulls the blankets up around Simon and dims the lights and hands him the remote control so he can watch whatever his nerdy heart desires on the television that’s mounted on the opposite wall. He sits on the edge of the bed and runs a hand through Simon’s newly dried hair, parting it away from his eyes. 

“You should have told me that you were living in such a place, pumpkin.” He tuts. 

“I kinda thought everyone knew. I thought Alec would have told you. And it sucks, sure, but I didn’t want to bother you by complaining about it.” Simon says with a shrug. He reaches for one of the tissues on the bedside table and covers a fit of sneezing, which makes him double over and appear much smaller and more fragile than he really is. 

“Bless you.” Magnus says, then casually adds, “This is your room now. Permanently. Okay?”

“Woah,” Simon shakes his head immediately, “Magnus I couldn’t--”

“Is there anything you need from your little shack immediately or shall we just wait until tomorrow when we move everything over?”

“Seriously you don’t have to--”

“Simon.” Magnus says firmly. “If you were a mundane living there, you’d be dead from hypothermia within like, a week. And I know you aren’t a mundane, but you’re still a person, okay? A person who deserves a real bed, a real ceiling, and a real person who can take care of you if something happens. Yes?”

“Yes.” Simon says quietly, smiling shyly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Magnus replies, heading toward the door. “Now, rest. I’m going to have a talk with some Shadowhunters.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yoooo I just love Simon and Magnus a whole lot and I feel like there's no way Magnus knows about Simon living in the boathouse bc?? He just wouldn't allow it??
> 
> Come hang out w me or leave me a prompt on tumblr @simonlewhiss


End file.
